


Whatever Happened To Jim Starling?

by CannedTins



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Insanity, Mild Blood, Spoilers, i kind of feel bad for jim starling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 01:59:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18863437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannedTins/pseuds/CannedTins
Summary: [BIG SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 16/THE DUCK KNIGHT RETURNS]You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.





	Whatever Happened To Jim Starling?

 

 

The masked mallard crouched in front of Launchpad was  _ not  _ the Darkwing he had grown up and idolized with. He was also  _ not _ Jim Starling. But at the same time, Launchpad could see it in the other’s crazed eyes, the former actor that was past his prime. It was hard to believe that, just one day, thanks to a  _ new  _ and coming actor, he  _ snapped _ .

 

“He’s not Darkwing!”

 

Launchpad winced at his voice; strained, angry, clearly unhinged. Drake Mallard was back at home, trying to figure out how to be the  _ new  _ Darkwing. But here...the  _ old _ Darkwing? He was no more. Gone were the purple hues tinted with teal that had become a trademark of his original outfit, discolored and washed out by fire and sewage, becoming ugly blood-red, garish yellow, and black.

 

“I know you’re upset---”

 

“ _ Upset?!”  _ Jim Starling roared, his face contorting into a mocking grin, “ _ YOU THINK I’M UPSET?! LOOK AT ME! MY ENTIRE STARDOM IS RUINED!” _

 

Launchpad couldn’t handle it. He started to cry, cursing himself for being so sensitive. He  _ grew up  _ with Jim Starling, watching him as this hero he’d loved so much. He knew this from the young actor Drake Mallard as well. Both of them were such big fans. And Drake Mallard eventually became Darkwing, while Jim Starling had been cast in a horrid shadow and left to rot in the sewers, festering in his own madness and fury.

 

The man formerly known as Darkwing Duck stumbled around for any sort of weapon he could find. Launchpad had all kinds of thoughts racing in his head about Darkwing, and that maybe, just maybe, he could have Jim snap out of his jealousy-fueled insanity. Just maybe. 

 

“Darkwing,” Launchpad called, hands out like he were trying to tame a wild beast, “It’s okay. I know how it is. I know what being replaced feels like.”

 

“No, you don’t! YOU  _ DON’T _ !”

 

“Please. You can be  _ you  _ again, I can feel it.”

 

Jim Starling swiftly picked up a piece of rebar, wishing he had something more  _ dangerous _ like a chainsaw instead. To him, there was no more “biggest fan” here, only a nuisance. He had to die. 

Launchpad didn’t know that. He genuinely believed that this duck could be “fixed”, that he could help be his old self and get back his job or whatever. That maybe all he needed was a hug,

 

“Come on, Darkwing,” Launchpad held out his hands again, welcoming Jim in, calling him by his old name. The one so swiftly taken away from him.

 

For a moment, Jim Starling quivered, but he did not let go of the weapon. He looked small now, small and vulnerable and not  _ insane _ , but also not quite  _ Darkwing _ , either. He mumbled, trying to formulate something to say.

 

“I...I’m Darkwing Duck.”

 

“Yes, you are!”

 

Jim looked at the weapon in his hands, repeating, “I’m Darkwing Duck.”

 

Launchpad could see that the other duck had let his guard down, and finally reached in for a hug, gently. Jim Starling froze, not sure how to process everything. He had his job taken away from him from a younger actor, a movie made that  _ he wasn’t even in _ , jealousy overtaken, burned in the fire. Forgotten. Except by one person.

 

But he wasn’t having any of it.

 

Launchpad’s embrace was interrupted by a sharp  _ clack _ ! To his head, and he promptly fell to the ground. He struggled to keep his eyes open as he looked right at Starling, his head buzzing and feeling what was likely blood trickling down his temples. Jim Starling had that insane look on his face again, breathing heavily, bloodied rebar in one shaking hand.

 

“I’m Darkwing Duck.”

 

Launchpad wasn’t so sure anymore. Jim stared right at him and lifted the weapon again, “I’m Darkwing Duck!”

 

Then, Launchpad regretted ever coming down here to face Jim. He was knocked unconscious with another blow to the head.

 

“I’m Darkwing Duck! I’m Darkwing Duck! _ I’m Darkwing Duck _ !” 

 

Blow after blow landed, Jim Starling laughed maniacally as blood splattered onto the floor and his clothes, not a care in the world for the duck he was just beating to a bloody pulp. 

 

A puff of purple smoke.

 

_ Speak of the devil. _ The  _ other _ Darkwing was here. The  _ fake _ one according to Jim Starling. He appeared with his cape swooshing behind him, in that outfit that had been used as a movie costume, a sleek, modern version of Jim Starling. He  _ hated _ it.

 

“I am the terror that flaps in the night,” the other one began, “I am the show cliffhanger that precedes a hiatus. I am Darkwing Duck!”

JIm narrowed his eyes, directing his weapon now towards Drake Mallard. Launchpad was still unconscious with blood pooling around his head, and Jim disregarded him for the other nuisance that was here. 

 

“You know what you did,  _ Mallard _ .”

 

Drake took out his gas gun, “And I know what you did,  _ Starling _ .”

 

“You’re going to...I know what you’ll do,” Jim held the weapon in two hands, “You’ll be saying ‘suck gas, evil doer!’, or some other thing like that. And you’ll be somehow goofy and indestructible while fighting. You’ll think you’re  _ me _ .”

 

Drake only stared at Jim, inspecting his discolored outfit, his eyes, his ruffled feathers. How far the mighty have fallen.

 

“You were my hero.”

 

“You’re not the only one.”

 

Drake pointed the gas gun right at Jim’s head, hoping the sleeping gas would knock him out right away. His hands trembled as he did.

 

Jim Starling only smiled.

 

“Do it, Drakey. Come and hit me. I’m your hero...right?”

 

Drake looked down at Launchpad, who had not stirred in the past half-hour, and back at Jim Starling. He imagined how Launchpad must have felt. He understood. But Drake also knew this  _ wasn’t _ Darkwing anymore. It simply wasn’t.

 

Drake cleared his throat, holding his gas gun steady, “I’m sorry, but you can never be Darkwing Duck again.”

 

He fired.

 

______________________________________________

 

Jim Starling awoke with a pounding headache, finding himself on a hard concrete bed, steel floor and walls, the window barred. He knew exactly where he was. 

He could hear exclaims from the other prisoners as they yelled and fought, and the jail guards reprimanded them with blows and insults. Jim felt he didn’t belong here. He was _ Darkwing Duck _ . Or so he thought.

 

Adjacent to the bed was a simple toilet-and-sink complete with mirror, both of which looked equally grimy. The entire jail cell was too cramped, too  _ outdated _ , like he was a patient in some Victorian era sanatorium and not a...hero.

 

Trying to forget his headache, he headed straight for the mirror to see himself for what he was, once and for all. He  _ had _ to be Darkwing Duck. He could not be anybody else. His feet felt like lead and his prison uniform felt loose and itchy around him, like they couldn’t find the right fit---nothing that fit his superhero physique? He stared down at the sink, then looked up to the mirror. What he saw almost made him faint.

 

He looked more haggard than ever, dark shadows plastered around his eyes so much they resembled a mask, his eyes bloodshot, like pinpricks---simply  _ insane _ , and his feathers were a complete mess, disheveled and sticking out at all edges. He looked much thinner, clearly spending weeks in the sewers did nothing to help him find any food much less think of it. His teeth grew sharp and were yellowed and cracked over time. The most shocking thing was an ugly, barely-healed burn scar right across the left side of his face, caused by the fire back at the studio. The mask covered it up, but it was hard to ignore the pain, and now even harder to ignore the fact that he had scars now. 

 

_ This _ was Darkwing Duck?

 

He tore his eyes away from the mirror, disgusted at his own appearance. Darkwing Duck did  _ not _ look like some crazed prisoner rotting in a jail cell right now. He was a  _ hero _ , he was  _ handsome _ .

Jim Starling simply... _ wasn’t _ .

 

“I’m...Darkwing Duck?”

 

He looked down at his blistered, shaky hands, “Darkwing...Duck.”

 

“Hey!” A prison guard interrupted, “You going to stand there or you going to head to the cafeteria?”

 

Jim Starling wasn’t hungry. He didn’t have much of an appetite to start with, and certainly not after seeing himself in the mirror. He shook his head.

 

He thought for a long, long time. He thought and thought as he stared up at the ceiling on the concrete bed, from dusk until dawn. He thought about what happened. He thought about his past and present, and now future. He thought about Launchpad and Drake Mallard and everything else.

 

He thought about how he looked now. He finally thought about admitting it, that he  _ wasn’t _ Darkwing Duck.

 

He heard two prison guards converse.

 

“That guy, I heard he used to be an actor, but went completely nuts. He was brought here by...by Darkwing Duck?”

 

“I thought  _ he _ was Darkwing Duck!”

 

A snort, “Pfft! If  _ that’s  _ Darkwing, I’m Scrooge McDuck!”

 

Jim stood up from his bed, walked towards the bars, grabbing onto them.

 

“Oh, geez. He’s right here!”

 

The guards turned around and tried their best not to look one bit scared of the former actor. They actually looked like they  _ pitied _ him, even.

 

“You’re...you were Darkwing, weren’t you?”

 

Jim Starling gazed at the two guards with exhausted eyes. He looked defeated, he  _ felt _ defeated. He didn’t want to be. He thought of something else. Something new. No...He wasn’t Darkwing. But he used to be. 

 

He finally smiled, eyes glistening.

 

“I’m Negaduck.”

 


End file.
